Silence
The silence gives me a tongue,
That I have not yet learnt to speak with
It suffers the drip drip dripping of the tap
In this dry urban flat
Before the rain has fallen
Silence gives me a tongue
That I have not learnt to speak with
It reaches beyond the language
More sacred than a prayer
More wise than holiness 'itself'
We do not worship it
Or see it's God like form in the 'shook gold of a sun rising'
Much softer than the sweetest kiss
Much older than a year in which we have lived
It knows no grief or sorrow
Only the joy of harmony
Reaching beyond each root beginning
Each form ending
Like eternity in one breath
One life still unfolding
[beneath all we know]
yvette m smith poet of uk
may 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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